Donna Leon and I have a strange relationship. She's nowhere near the top of my list of favorite detective writers, yet I've read six of her Commissario Brunetti mysteries (sort of how I really don't like Rent all that much, yet through an odd combination of circumstances have seen the show three times). Her books always leave me feeling unfulfilled, even though at this point I should know better than to expect miracles from them. But I keep coming back to her books, hoping to find that really great one that I know is hidden in the series, and I do this for one reason: Venice. Much in the way that I will happily watch paint dry if the narrator from Bridezillas is providing commentary, I will read just about any book that takes place in Venice. It's a killer setting, especially for a mystery, and despite all her weaknesses as a writer, Leon uses the setting to its full potential in every book. Which is all a long-winded way of saying that when I found this book, I was delighted - Donna Leon discussing Venice, without the distraction of her half-baked murder mysteries and useless filler scenes? Sign me up. The book, as the "Other Essays" part of the title suggests, is about more than just the author's experiences in Venice (where she's lived for over twenty years). There's a lengthy section on opera, some stories about Leon's country house in Italy, a lot of essays bashing the United States, and a few essays that get into Leon's childhood and frankly fascinating career history (she was living in Iran at the time of the revolution, and also did a teaching stint in Saudi Arabia - Donna Leon, I am delighted to report, is a badass).Other reviewers took issue with the negative tone of a lot of the essays, but I found her curmudgeonly air delightful. If she's not complaining about going back home and being surrounded by fat Americans who have probably never even been to Europe, gross, she's expounding on opera and how once a friend forced her to go to a non-Baroque opera, prompting a delightful list of "warnings meant to govern attendance at the opera," the first of which goes like this:"1. Beware of beds. If, at any time during a performance, a bed appears on stage in a place other than a bedroom it is probably being used as a symbol. Opera directors often use symbols in place of ideas. They are not the same."My only complaint is that many of the essays feel too short. They're more like anecdotes instead of fully-formed stories, and there are potential essays hidden within the text that I would have enjoyed reading. In one of her opera pieces, Leon gets to the end and mentions that when she was at the reception, she started imagining how a murderer would escape the room, and says that this is one of the perils of being a detective writer. I could have read an entire essay about how Leon can't stop imagining grisly murder scenarios everywhere she goes, but instead it's tacked on at the end of a completely unrelated essay, which was frustrating. She also has some essays about writing at the end of the book, including some advice on writing detective stories. I enjoyed this, although she seemed to have sort of a dismissive attitude towards the detective genre (I forgot to mark it, so I can't quote the line directly, but I remember her implying that mysteries are not "real" books). It was weird to watch Leon essentially bite the hand that feeds her, and it made me wonder if she only started writing mysteries because of the money, which makes me sad. Although it would explain why none of her books have managed to impress me so far.
Leon reminds us what we, the masses, like about the internet and TV criticism today: it is not always politically correct. Leon makes no attempt to please everyone. She is just telling us what she thinks about, and she doesn’t mince words. The woman who writes fascinating and thoughtful police procedurals that dramatize critical issues of our time is intelligent and opinionated. Her personality is out there for us to “take it or leave it.” I like people with considered opinions. Because Leon is able to articulate her positions, we are convinced we must take her standpoint into consideration when formulating or modifying our own view of the world. And finally, she is amusing, something that is too little valued in polite society these days. One gets the feeling she relishes matching wits: contrary viewpoints will not necessarily be shunned by her, but welcomed by a sardonic smile, a tilt of dark brows which contrast so sharply with her white bob, and the gleaming sword of wit raised as if to kiss. Be prepared to do battle all ye who enter here. Mostly Leon’s essays are short opinions about this and that, essays that get longer as the book moves along. Her sections are intriguing: “On Venice,” “On America,” “On Music,” “On Mankind and Animals.” In “On Men” we learn what is essential to the Italian male character. We glean details of Leon’s background as an American living abroad. The essays are an excellent counterpoint to the ever longer series featuring police chief Commissario Brunetti of Venice. Brunetti is a nice man, a good father, loving husband, and a thoughtful, effective police chief in an Italian context. That is, criminals are not always brought to justice and official corruption is a way of life. Leon’s essays put these characterizations in context. The most interesting section of essays might be the last, which Leon entitles “On Books.” One essay in this section has Leon giving her considered (and valuable) opinion on what it takes to be a successful mystery/crime writer, which decisions must be made before beginning a novel, and what level skill is required. Then she adds an essay on “the expert eye” and how critical that is to the success of a crime writer. Sylvia Poggioli, NPR radio commentator based in Italy, interviewed Leon in 2007. I was surprised to learn that Leon’s books are not translated into Italian, and will not be in her lifetime. She had been writing the Venetian Brunetti series for some time before her books were available in the United States. I’d always assumed her work was for European audiences rather than for American ones…so I was surprised to learn the country where she lives is not privy to her talent.Donna Leon’s own blog features further links and discussions.I want to read further in the series, knowing what I do now after these essays. Delightfully piquant.
Do You like book My Venice And Other Essays (2013)?
As with a number of Donna Leon's 'other' publications I've gotten the impression that they are just something she's doing for to make more money...maybe so w/ the money dedicated to her passion - Baroque music. That's fine; I bought the book and glad of it but I wish she'd try harder. Especially since I've just finished Ann Patchett's assembled (her declaration, not mine) book of previous stories, musings,, opinions etc and was far Far more engaaged by both the content and the writing itself...I'm disappointed in this...not diswayed, mind you, just disappointed, again...and I do Love the cover photo - so shallow of me but I do!!
—Pam
This collection of essays gives the reader a great insight into Donna Leon's life in Italy and especially Venice. The essays are a collection of published magazine articles she wrote for a variety of different magazines, and the themes range from culture, politics, family-life, and history of Venice. The reader gets an intimate idea of what life in Italy is like, written in a witty and intelligent, and always very entertaining style. I could picture how theses anecdotes of Donna Leon's life became the basis and foundation of her Brunetti mysteries.It is obvious how much she loves Italy and Venice, but she can still look on hit not with the eyes of a tourist, or outsider, but with the eyes of someone who has experiences every day life and its struggles.The collection of essays can easily be read one after the other, or you can put down the book and pick it up whenever you have some time to read a short essay in between other things.I found myself jumping chapters and picking out what suited my mood.This book is perfect to read while waiting for the next Brunetti installment and still getting your Venice and Donna Leon fix.Copy provided through NetGalley
—Claudia
As a big fan of this author's novels, I was shocked by the mean-spiritedness displayed in many of the essays in this book. I well recognize the many faults of our country, but I was quite put off by her blatant contempt of the U.S. Of course, she lives in Italy, the epitome of beautifully-governed, perfectly functioning, and flawlessly-operated life! As far as contempt for tourists, one might well point out that Venice LIVES ON TOURISM! Amazon review uses the word "curmudgeonly" but as a curmudgeon myself, I would use "bitchy and arrogant!" From Amazon: My Venice and Other Essays is an example of one of my favorite genres of book. I love it when novelists take time out from fiction to write essays, articles, or other non-fiction. Even writers whose fiction I am not a fan of, have written some terrific non-fiction collections. Amy Tan's The Opposite of Fate and Stephen King's On Writing are two favorites. Sue Townsend and Barbara Kingsolver are also good in the non-fiction department. I've recently "discovered" Ann Patchett through her journalism and essays in This Is the Story of a Happy Marriage.Donna Leon is one writer whose fiction I do enjoy, and I also like reading low-key travel narrative (as opposed to adventure travel, which is also fun, but in smaller doses). Her essay on her time in Saudi Arabia is memorable. I enjoyed My Venice and Other Essays, although it is somewhat uneven as a collection. It would be helpful to know who the essays were originally written for, as some seem geared toward a particular audience. For instance, Leon writes in some detail about opera, which she knows a lot about, but presumably her typical reader doesn't know as much about opera. That makes me think a few of the articles here were written for music magazines or some other specialist publication.Leon often comes across as downright curmudgeonly, when she talks about inconsiderate neighbors or hunters or rodents. Or Americans in general, and tourists in particular. It's quite entertaining.
—Ron
